


It's All Gravy

by thundercaya



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breakfast, Coffee, Domestic, M/M, Sleeping In, Workplace Warzone compliant, jeffmadsmonth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 04:45:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13896558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundercaya/pseuds/thundercaya
Summary: “You sure had a lot of dirty dishes for someone who’s hardly been in town.”





	It's All Gravy

It was unusual for Thomas Jefferson to sleep in. He’d been an early riser for most of his life, and when he didn’t feel like getting up, he could usually shake the residual sleep with some light exercise and a leisurely cup of coffee. This past week, however, had been particularly rough on Jefferson, filled with traveling and endless meetings. He’d gotten in last night and wasn’t looking forward to leaving his bed any time soon.

It was biology that finally got Jefferson up, his need to relieve himself exceeding his need to stay comfortable in bed. When he was finished, he was greatly tempted to just get back under the covers, so he grabbed his phone off the nightstand to check the time and make a more informed decision. While it wasn’t terribly late, he did see that he had several text messages from James Madison.

 _Good morning._  
_You’re back in town, right? Can I come over?_  
_Are you up?_  
_I’m just gonna come over. Hopefully you’ll be awake by the time I get there._  
_I’m here. Are you awake?_  
_Thomas?_  
_I’m letting myself in. Please don’t mistake me for an intruder and kill me._

Well, now Jefferson was disappointed that Madison hadn’t crawled into bed with him. Waking up next to Madison would have been a nice surprise, though given that last text he could understand why the man might not want to risk startling him. Grinning, he slipped off his shirt, hoping that Madison would believe he’d just slept that way, then he stepped out of his bedroom.

“James?” he called, making his way down the hallway.

“I’m in the kitchen!” Madison called back.

Jefferson probably could have surmised that himself from the smells that were coming from the same direction as Madison’s voice. Coffee and some kind of bread. The sight of Madison standing at the stove stirring a pot came into view.

“Morning, hon,” Jefferson greeted.

Madison flashed a quick smile. “Hey. I was gonna wait for you to wake up before getting started so the gravy wouldn’t get cold, but I got hungry.”

“I can’t believe you’re cooking.”

“Don’t get too excited; it’s from a can. The biscuits are too.”

“Still sounds good,” Jefferson said, moving in to give Madison a peck.

Madison turned his head to accept the kiss, then turned his attention back to the stove. “Question, were the dishes in your dishwasher dirty or clean? They looked clean, but I didn’t want to put them away in case I was wrong, so I just put them on the rack.”

It was then that Jefferson realized his dishwasher was running.  “They’re clean,” he said. “I just haven’t had the chance to put them away.”

“You sure had a lot of dirty dishes for someone who’s hardly been in town.”

Jefferson scoffed. “Yes, well, I couldn’t very well put in new load without clearing out the old one.” He cleared his throat, and scratched the back of his head. “Thanks for taking care of it.”

Madison shrugged. “I couldn’t dirty up more dishes if there wasn’t anywhere to put them after.”

“And thanks for that, too! I didn’t think I’d find you making breakfast.”

“And I didn’t think I’d find you without a shirt,” Madison shrugged. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Naw,” Jefferson dismissed. He crossed his arms. “Okay, maybe a little. Want to warm me up?” He flashed a grin.

Madison rolled his eyes. “Kind of busy here.”

“I’m pretty sure the directions on that can say ‘stir occasionally,’ not ‘constantly.’”

“If I take my eyes off of it for two seconds it’ll burn. Trust me, there’s a reason I don’t cook much.” He nodded towards the coffee maker. “Serve yourself some coffee. That should warm you up until I’m done.”

Jefferson moved to do just that. “You want a cup, too?”

Madison smiled. “Of course.”


End file.
